


Tough Love

by bjfic_archivist



Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: Angst, Canon, Gap Filler, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-11-17
Updated: 2003-11-17
Packaged: 2018-12-26 20:51:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12066771
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bjfic_archivist/pseuds/bjfic_archivist
Summary: What happens after Brian and Justin watch each other in the back room?  Gapfiller for 307.





	Tough Love

**Author's Note:**

> Note from IrishCaelan, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Brian/Justin Fanfiction Archive](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Brian_Justin_Fanfiction_Archive). To preserve the archive, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in September 2017. I posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [The Brian/Justin Fanfiction Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/bjfic/profile).

I’m not sure what I expected to happen on that night that had started like so many others. But to find Justin standing in front of the loft certainly wasn’t one of them. He stood there, leaning against the wall, when the elevator stopped. He said nothing, and I didn’t either, just raised my brows, not quite hiding my surprise. 

 

Granted, he already surprised me by turning up in the backroom, fucking some guy, and I’d be a liar if I said the whole thing wasn’t pretty intense, but I never expected him to show up in front of my door.

 

“Can I come in?” he asked when I moved past him, opening the door. 

 

Instead of answering I simply left the door open, and a moment later I heard him enter. 

 

“You want a beer?” I asked, opening the fridge.

 

“Yeah, thanks,” he replied. We were so incredibly polite, I felt like vomiting right there. 

 

“So,” I said, handing him the bottle, “where is your boy-toy tonight?” Not that I really wanted to know where the great Ethan was. The guy could lie in the gutter for all I cared, but after Justin’s little display at Babylon I had the nagging feeling that not all was right with the happy couple. 

 

Something flickered through his eyes, but was gone the next second when he lifted the bottle and took a long sip. 

 

I did the same, then put the beer down and shrugged out of my jacket. “The lovely Ian on another trip?”

 

He said nothing for a long while and I was sure he wasn’t going to answer at all, when he suddenly said, “We broke up.”

 

To say I was surprised for the third time tonight would’ve been a huge understatement. Don’t understand me wrong. I never expected them to last. And I knew there was trouble in dreamland, but I never expected this. And I simply had to ask, “What happened? He cheated on you?” That would be an explanation for Justin turning up in the backroom all of a sudden. 

 

Again he didn’t say anything, and I turned slowly, only to find him deathly pale, his blue eyes huge and dark. For a moment I wanted nothing more than to go to him, take him in my arms and hold him, but of course I didn’t. Instead I lifted my brows and tilted my head, “Don’t tell me you weren’t enough for him already? Gee, and after all the trouble he went through. Even got you a ring.”

 

“Fuck you,” he hissed, turning away and walking to the windows. “Fuck you,” he said again, his voice lower this time. 

 

Feeling suddenly like the worst heel on this planet, I tried for something nice. Nothing came to my mind, so I said simply, “Justin.”

 

“Save it,” he said angrily. “I don’t want to hear it, okay? So you were right. Great. Are you happy now?”

 

“No,” I replied softly, slowly walking towards him. His back was so stiff it hurt to merely watch it. “I’m not happy. What happened?”

 

He took another gulp, let out a snort, “He went to this great concert. They loved him of course. Everyone loves him. I saw him there. With this guy. He said it was nothing. Turns out the first night we spent apart he fucked another guy.” He snorted again, then emptied the bottle and set it on the floor before turning to me. “He expected me to forgive him. The way I always forgave you.”

 

Okay, maybe it was shitty of me, but I laughed. It kind of bubbled out of me. “Forgive me?” I gave him an incredulous look. “There was nothing to forgive.”

 

Strangely enough he smiled, “That’s what I told him. You never promised anything.”

 

The way he put it, it almost sounded like an insult, but I let it slide. He looked bad enough as it was. Instead I pursed my lips, “No, I didn’t,” I agreed. It was the truth after all, and one reason more why not promising people stuff was right. At least nobody expected something from you that way. Then I remembered something, “By the way, I did promise you something once.”

 

Waiting for him to acknowledge that, I turned away when I saw his eyes widen. Stripping my shirt, I moved to the bedroom and heard him following me up the stairs. He laughed harshly, “Don’t tell me this is about those stupid rules?”

 

He sounded so incredulous, something inside of me finally snapped. It was probably ridiculous, because really, it was just a stupid comment, but it still happened. I whirled around, and got right into his face, grabbing his arm in the process and not caring if I hurt him or not. “You made those rules. And I stuck to them.” I heard him draw a sharp breath, saw his pupils widen, and went on, “Maybe they were stupid. Yes, they were stupid, but it didn’t matter. I promised you to stick to them and I did.” I looked at him for a long moment. “That’s,” I said finally, “is the difference between us.” I let go of his hand and went into the bathroom, slamming the door behind me. 

 

Inside, I grabbed the sink, my knuckles turning white, and looked at myself in the mirror. Christ. My eyes were dark and angry, they were almost scary, there was sweat on my forehead and above my upper lip. I wiped a palm over my face, and was surprised to find it trembling slightly. 

 

Suddenly the door behind me opened. Letting go of the sink, I straightened, not wanting him to see how much our little exchange had affected me. “What?” I asked, sharper than I had intended.

 

“Did you really stick to them?” he asked, his voice sounded so small all of a sudden. I forced myself not to turn around. I didn’t want to see him, didn’t want to know how he looked right this moment. 

 

“What do you think?” I replied, and watched with an odd fascination that a muscle in my jaw started to tick. 

 

Again there was silence at first, then, “As I said, there was nothing I had to forgive you.” With that he turned and walked out. If I was a better man I might have followed him. As it was I stayed in front of the mirror, staring at myself, yet not finding answers in those dark, haunted eyes.


End file.
